


Sometimes It Causes Me to Tremble (Tremble)

by kylermalloy



Series: SamDean Drabbles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean holding Sam, Drabble, Episode: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Gen, episode coda, that’s it that’s the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylermalloy/pseuds/kylermalloy
Summary: Sam's death is not elegant. Nor is the pain that implodes within Dean as understanding dawns on him. The pain is ugly, raw, vicious, ripping primal through every fiber of his being.Post 2x21. Dean’s denial gives way.Title fromWere You There.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: SamDean Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706494
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Sometimes It Causes Me to Tremble (Tremble)

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this YEARS ago and never posted it anywhere. When I found it and reread it, it wasn’t bad at all! I just gave it a polish and posted for your reading pleasure (or horror, ymmv)

Sam's death is not elegant. Nor is the pain that implodes within Dean as understanding dawns on him. The pain is ugly, raw, vicious, ripping primal through every fiber of his being.

Sam’s body is empty.

Dean holds it up, propping him in a kneeling position, desperately trying to prolong his fantasy.  _ He’s not dead. He can’t be. This can’t happen to us. To Sam. He’s special. He’s Sam. _

_ He’ll be fine. He always is. He’ll open his eyes in just a minute. It’ll be rough, but we’ll get through it. We’ll figure it out, like we always do. _

Sam looks like he’s sleeping. Countless times Dean’s seen him asleep. Countless times Dean has held him up, exhausted and incoherent. Patted his cheek.  _ C’mon Sasquatch, let’s get you to bed.  _ All the times he’s needed nothing more than a good night’s sleep.

Sam’s not sleeping. He’s not dreaming in there. Dean can sense it. There’s an infinitesimal difference in the weight of his body. It feels too light.

Reality seeps in, replacing the pain, the denial, with an awful black nothing. Sam is empty. Sam isn’t  _ Sam. _

His sack of bones contains less life than a puppet with its strings cut. It sags, screaming to surrender to gravity, to embrace the ground—only Dean’s hands keep it upright. There are no muscles to command; no conscience to form any such command.

No, his body houses nothing, none of the essence Dean strove to safeguard his whole life. This isn’t Sam.  _ Sam _ is floating somewhere, elsewhere. Somewhere Dean can’t reach him. Can’t grab him and put him back where he belongs—in Dean’s arms.

The one instant, the one time Dean was not right where he needed to be, Sam escaped. Slipped through Dean’s fingers.

_ Sam _ is gone. All Dean has of him is this bruised, bloody, broken shell.

The hole in his back doesn’t even bother to leak blood. The once-warm liquid congeals, cooling sticky on Dean’s hands. Proof of Dean’s sins. The price he pays. Sam’s blood stains Dean’s old rugged hands.

As he holds him there, wrapped in the smothering envelope of grief, the very essence of  _ Dean _ drains from his body.

He failed. His one purpose in life, failed. Who is Dean, if not Sam’s brother? His protector? If Sam is dead, what is the point of  _ Dean? _

He’s as much of a shell as the corpse draped against him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought in a comment! I’m on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com/) too, hop over and say hi!


End file.
